Operation L'Amour
by Lmuffins
Summary: Alfred and Arthur are stuck dancing around each other and can't seem to get together. Arthur makes a deal with Francis in an attempt to get help with the problem, but when Alfred sees them together, he becomes jealous. Written for secret Santa.
1. Chapter 1

So I originally wrote this for Secret Santa over at the US UK livejournal group. I posted it on my livejournal, but never actually got around to posting it here. Oops…

Anyway the request was: 1)America and England have been dancing around each other for a while, both can't seem to ask each other out. England then starts to spend too much time hanging out with France (when in reality, he's trying to get help from him) and America gets jealous.

*Not required, but I would love it if they somehow include Prussia/Canada 3

OoO

_Sheriff Jones swung off his horse and ran towards the train tracks. He could hear the whistling sound of a locomotive off in the distance, and he knew that he only had minutes to act. Quickly, he arrived by the side of a body that was tied to the tracks._

_ Green eyes opened wide in surprise at the sight of him, as Sheriff Jones hurried to untie the trapped man. The man was gagged, but he tried to speak just the same._

_ "Be quiet for a moment, would ya? It's not helping me free you any." Sheriff Jones told him, flashing a winning smile. _

_Suddenly the whistle sounded again, much closer this time. The green eyes widened once more, this time in fear, but Sheriff Jones kept his cool. He flipped his gun out of its holster, and shot at the final rope. Just as it severed, Sheriff Jones swept the man into his arms and out of the way of the speeding train._

_They stood silently together until the train had passed, and then the man seemed to remember him self. He pulled the gag away from his mouth, and sputtered._

"_Why did you save me? You're a sheriff and I'm an outlaw, you've been chasing me for years. Why would you do that?"_

"_Haven't you ever stopped to wonder, Kid Kirkland, just why I've been so keen on followin' ya'?" Sheriff Jones grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and stared dramatically into his eyes._

"_Sheriff Jones, I don't understand…"_

"_Do ya' understand this?" He pulled the smaller man closer, joining their lips together. It was a kiss full of passion and love; Kid Kirkland's lean body pressed against the Sheriff's broad chest, and he placed a thin hand against Jones' rippling pectorals. He looked up into the Sheriff's manly gaze and said:_

"Alfred, are you paying attention?"

"Huh, what?"

"Are you paying attention? China is discussing his economy and, in case you haven't noticed, it's rather important to you."

Alfred looked up from his paper in mild confusion. He glanced around the meeting room and saw Yao up at the front gesticulating at charts. Probably talking about how Alfred owed him bajillions of dollars or something.

"You are covered in lead." Arthur said tiredly.

The younger nation looked him self over. The side of his right hand was completely gray, and he wouldn't have been surprised if he had some on his face as well.

"It's not lead. It's graphite." He answered blandly.

"Well, you look like a fool either way. It's all over your forehead and the tip of your nose. What were you drawing so intently anyway?"

"Nothin'!" Alfred said quickly, tearing out the page of his notebook and stuffing it into his pocket.

"I am trying to speak here, aru! Quiet, please!" Yao snapped in their direction.

Alfred slunk down in his seat, pretending to look embarrassed, when really he was just relieved. He would have died if Arthur had seen what he was drawing.

When the meeting came to a close Arthur pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and turned towards Alfred, "You're filthy, come here."

"No. You don't have to clean my face. That's just weird."

"You'd rather wander around looking like you fell face first into a pile of dust? I certainly won't be seen with you like that," Arthur said, his large brows furrowing.

"I have to walk around with you all the time, and you've always got those ridiculous caterpillars chilling on your forehead." This was the wrong thing to say.

"Oh shut up! That's the last damn time I try to help you!" Arthur stood up quickly, slammed his papers into his briefcase, and stormed out of the room. Alfred opened his mouth to call after him but couldn't think of anything decent to say.

"You upset him again, didn't you, Al?"

Alfred turned and looked over his shoulder; Matthew was looking down at him in concern.

"He started it."

"I doubt that," Matthew said raising an eyebrow.

"He was talking down to me again, you know? Treating me like a kid. I hate it when he does that, and he does it all the time!" Alfred stood up angrily and slammed his chair in. Being indignant was easier than being upset anyway.

"You're not that mad, Al. You're just… frustrated, because he still thinks of you as a little kid and you want him to think of you as a man." Matthew said, trying to be helpful. Alfred was not in the mood for being helped.

"I don't really care what the stupid old man thinks. I don't know why you think I would." Matthew didn't respond. He had bent down to pick up a piece of paper and was currently looking it over. He then looked at Alfred as though he was trying not to smile.

"I can see you don't care about what he thinks from the way in which you're carrying him off into the sunset in this picture."

"That's… What? I mean, that's not me an' Arthur. That's just some cowboys riding off into the sunset."

"With one of them riding sidesaddle with his arms around the other guys neck?" Matthew questioned.

"Yeah…" Alfred mumbled, "So?"

"The little one has got some serious eyebrows going on, and the taller one has got glasses and a very familiar cowlick," Matthew pointed out.

"Shut up! No one likes your face!" Alfred said angrily, snatching his artwork from his brother's hands and holding it close to his chest.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "The only difference between your face and mine is that mine isn't covered in pencil lead. I'll see you later, Al. I've got a lunch date."

"It's graphite!" Alfred called out to his brother's retreating figure, and then he was left alone.

OoOoO

Arthur slammed his briefcase down on the counter of the bar before sitting moodily on the stool. He ordered a beer and waited, fuming.

"See, look Francis, you got a drinking buddy." Arthur sighed at the sound of the snickering voice that he knew belonged to a certain albino.

"He looks a little pissy, non?" _Fuck, _the frog was there too.

"All the better to bother, then. 'sides I got lunch plans."

"Of course, of course. Go along. And remember what I told you. Be polite with Mattieu. Be courteous, hold doors open, or you're not getting anywhere."

"I _know_. I _know_. Jesus H. Christ, you've told me like twelve times already."

"It is my job to give advice on Lamoure. It is my most sacred duty."

"Yeah, sure, whatevs. See you later, man."

Arthur heard a set of quick retreating footsteps, and then, much to his horror, he heard another set of footsteps heading towards him.

"What do you want Frog?" he asked without turning around.

"Just to drink with one of my oldest friends. Is that so wrong?"

"Yes," Arthur said angrily. Francis leaned down, forcing himself to the Englishman's line of sight.

"It is problems of the heart, is it not?"

"Why don't you keep your love advice to the realm of pimping out your former colonies?"

"I beg your pardon, Angleterre," Francis said, the smoothness of his voice becoming a little ragged around the edges, "but I believe I lost the right to being Mattieu's brother, when you stole him from me."

Arthur shrugged and ordered another beer.

"But besides that, I see nothing wrong with helping my friend and my old colony achieve a loving relationship. Mattieu is never going seek to the love and attention that he really needs, and Gilbert is never going to seek love and attention in the right way. Why shouldn't I be a little helpful?" Francis took a moment to order himself a glass of wine and sat besides Arthur.

"You don't see anything wrong with trying to get your innocent child laid?" Arthur said tersely. He was still refusing Francis's gaze, choosing instead to glare down at the golden surface of his beer.

"Nonsense! Mattieu is a grown man. I would not be surprised if he has enjoyed the company of another's bed before. I'm sure you don't look at Alfred, say, and still see him as a little boy." Francis spoke with nonchalance, but Arthur's face flushed and he became terribly interested in his fingernails. He could see the Frenchman out of the corner of his eye. A knowing smile was spreading very slowly across his bearded face.

"You don't think of him as a little boy at all, do you? Although I don't think you'll be offering him up to anyone else anytime soon. The only person whose bed you'd like to see him in is yours."

"Shut up!" Arthur spluttered, finally turning towards Francis. "Take it back! I'm not so sick as all that. I wouldn't want to do anything with him. I raised him. It would be wrong! Even if he might have an infectious charm, the muscles of Greek god, and the smile of a toothpaste model. By which I mean, of course … Go die!" Arthur got up quickly, and attempted to make an escape.

"Oh, Anglettere, such denial I have never seen, and never have I seen anyone so in need of my assistance. Let me help you." Francis said grabbing him by the arm.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"It is what I was made for. Besides, it might make you more pleasant to be around when I succeed."

"When?"

"I never fail in matters of love," Francis said waggling his eyebrows, "Now will you let me help?"

Arthur paused before answering. The last thing he wanted was to spend more time with Francis, but he really did need help. He had been harboring feeling for Alfred since World War II, at least, and it was getting ridiculous. He knew that it wasn't all a reaction to the boy's age either, although the thought did make him feel slightly guilty. He just didn't know how to express himself around Alfred, and he was always making everything worse. It was easier to hide behind an excuse than do anything.

"Fine," he said quietly, and Francis lit up, "But you've got two weeks. I'm not spending any extra time with you after this conference is over."

"A time limit, hmm. Well, I was in the mood for a challenge. Let us do it." Francis reached out his hand, and Arthur shook it nervously. He had the strange feeling of selling his soul.


	2. Chapter 2

"Now, our first step on the path to love, must come from the inside," Francis began. Arthur sat miserably alone at a small round table. The Frenchman had hijacked a small conference room in the hotel they were staying at, and was currently pacing back and forth in front of him. He reminded Arthur of a military captain laying out his plans.

"What the hell do you mean by 'come from the inside'," Arthur asked in annoyance. Francis turned to him and smirked. He went to his briefcase and pulled out laptop.

"Oh dear God. There's a PowerPoint?" Arthur groaned miserably.

"Of course. This is very important business," Francis replied as he began to prepare the conference room's projector.

"You don't put this much effort into our regular meetings."

"Non, but I would if they would let me deal with true problems. The world would be greatly improved if there wasn't so much sexual tension at every conference, don't you think?"

Arthur chose not to respond, largely because it seemed rather true, and he didn't want to let Francis know that he was right.

"There now, it is ready!" Arthur's eyes slid to the screen and he felt his exasperation growing. The background was a muddle of hearts and in the center of the slide the words 'OPERATION L'AMOUR' were printed in twirly script with the subtitle 'A Very Special Relationship'.

"Why do I ever speak with you?" Arthur asked.

"Because you are in desperate need of help," Francis replied before turning back to the screen, "Now, as you can see I have titled our venture 'Operation L'amour', and we shall refer to it as that from now on."

"I'm going to call it 'That horribly stupid thing that I agreed to do with you'," Arthur told him. Francis continued his presentation. The next slide was plain pink and contained a list.

"Five steps to love," Francis read, "Number one, understanding the self. Number two, Overcoming inner difficulties. Number three, Understanding the target. Number four, wooing the target. Number five, the confession."

Arthur banged his forehead against the table.

"Now this is usually a three step program. Understanding the target, wooing the target, and confession or conquest, depending on the situation. However, you are an emotional mess worthy of Roderick's couch, so we'll be starting with a few extra steps."

Francis clicked the presentation onward and another slide appeared. It was titled 'Understanding the Self. What are my problems with this relationship?'

"Why the hell did you write it first person? You're not the one you're talking about!" Arthur complained. He wasn't in the mood to receive advice in the flowery, self-affirming language that was Francis trying to sound like a self-help book.

"I thought it gave it more emotional power. You don't like it?" he paused for a moment but continued before Arthur could answer, "Never mind, I don't care what you think." He began to read the rest of the slide. It said "Colony, Personality Clash, I don't know how to be happy."

"What do you mean I don't know how to be happy? How could a person not know how to be happy? What, do you think I like being miserable?" Arthur shouted indignantly.

"Oui, Anglettere, I do. But that is covered on another slide. Non, first we must address your difficulties with your attraction to a former colony." He flipped to a new slide again and read, "Colony. Some part of me still sees him as a child. I feel as though I am betraying that child."

"This is insane. I don't feel as though I am betraying him. That doesn't make any sense!"

"It makes perfect sense. You referred to him as an 'innocent child' yesterday. You think of the little boy you once knew, and you feel badly for being attracted to what he has become. You cannot deny it."

"Well fine then, even if it is true, which it's not, what help is writing it on a slide. You haven't given me any decent advice!"'

"This section," Francis said in annoyance, "Is the 'Understanding the self' section, not the 'Overcoming inner difficulties' section. That part comes next. You must understand yourself first. Now read it aloud and accept it into your heart."

"No, this is inane."

"Read it, or I am going to walk out of here and tell Alfred that you're lusting after him myself."

"You wouldn't dare," Arthur hissed.

"Not only would I dare, but I would enjoy every minute of it."

Arthur studied him quickly before deciding that, yes, Francis most certainly would dare. Gritting his teeth he read off the slide, "Some part of me still sees him as a child."

"Good! Now breathe in, breathe out, and accept it."

Arthur breathed in, he breathed out, and maybe just a little he accepted it, but he wasn't going to admit this to Francis. He read the next line, "I feel as though I am betraying that child."

He breathed in, he breathed out, and he thought about Alfred. He thought of the little child he had held in his arms, had washed and dressed, taught to read and write, and snuggled with on dark night. His thoughts were interrupted by a vision of grown Alfred, strong and bright and handsome. He thought of his golden laugh and broad shoulders, the way it felt to receive one of his over exuberant hugs. He became painfully aware of his own attraction and he admitted to himself that maybe he felt a little guilty.

"You feel better already, do you not? Acceptance is the most important step Angleterre, and you are taking it," Francis told him as he flicked to the next slide. It read:

Personality Clash  
>-He is loud, brash, easygoing, and blunt<br>-I am quiet, brooding, uptight, deceitful, and generally unpleasant.  
>-Also, he's more handsome than me<p>

"There is nothing you can do to make me read that," Arthur said flatly. Francis's eyes moved from the slide to the Englishman's face and back, as though he was trying to decide whether he ought to threaten him again. He seemed to reach the conclusion that this slide wasn't worth the effort.

"Fine, but you must say the next one," Francis agreed, and he clicked the presentation onward.

Arthur began to read, "I don't know how to be happy. I have spent many years alone. I take pride in my brooding." He paused and considered what he had just said, "Take pride in my brooding?"

"So you admit it?"

"No! This is all complete bollocks! How could a person take pride in brooding?"

"You like it. You think it makes you cool and impenetrable. It makes you feel like no one can touch you, because you're deep and angry enough already; it makes you feel safe."

"Do you just sit and make character studies of people in your spare time?"

"Non, in my spare time I make love to beautiful people. I make character studies of people during meetings. Besides, I have known you for far longer than I ever could have wanted, so understanding you is not so hard."

Arthur glared at him and sunk petulantly down in his seat. "What's next then, Frog?"

"We are done for today," Francis announced. "I have made you a list of these ideas that you must come to terms with. You shall reflect on them, and we will meet here again at the same time tomorrow. If you are still in denial after a night of deep reflection than I am not sure I can help you. If, however, you have accepted your inner demons, than tomorrow we work to over come them."

OoOoO

_Secret Agent Jones crawled on his stomach through the ventilation shaft of the Secret Headquarters. He had lost contact with his transatlantic partner, Arthur Kirkland the Royal Spy, and was desperate to find him. Who knew what kind of trouble he could be in?_

_At last he reached a vent and he was able to peer down into a large room. He saw his partner tied to a chair. He was talking to someone. His large eyebrows were lowered in displeasure. He didn't seem to like whomever it was that he was talking with._

_Secret Agent Jones could hear an obnoxious French accent floating up into the ventilation. He couldn't make out the words, but it was most certainly Frenchy. A man with curly blond hair stepped into view and leaned down to speak in Arthur's face. Arthur smirked and looked away._

_Secret Agent Jones frowned. Perhaps Kirkland wasn't as displeased as he had initially thought. If he didn't know any better he would think that they were enjoying one another's company. It was almost as though-_

"Arthur and Francis seem to be getting on a little better today than usual," Matthew commented in a dreamy tone.

Alfred glanced up at him and noticed his brother wasn't quite looking at the two old empires. His eyes were just slightly to the left, at Francis's other side where Gilbert was sitting. The ex-nation winked and Matthew smiled and waved back stupidly.

"You and Prussia seem to be getting along better than usual too," Alfred said grinning at his brother. Matthew's face turned bright red and he stuttered.

"It's nothing. I- well- I- we just had a good lunch together yesterday. He's not so obnoxious as he might come off sometimes. It thought he might be more like you but he's not."

Ignoring Matthew's ability to weave passive insults into any conversation, Alfred turned his attention back to Arthur and Francis. Arthur was mainly focused on Ludwig, who was currently addressing the assembly, but he seemed to be half listening to Francis. The Frenchman was pointing to various nations around the room and leaning in towards Arthur to make some sort of comments. Arthur did not seem annoyed by this, on the contrary he seemed rather amused.

"Why do you think he decided not to sit next to me?" Alfred asked Matthew. He got no response and glanced towards his brother only to see that he was drawing little hearts in his notebook. Subconsciously moving his arm to cover his own margin doodles (which involved men in suits talking into their wristwatches) he repeated his question more loudly.

"Oh!" Matthew said when his attention was finally caught, "I don't know. He didn't sit next to you yesterday either. He's probably still annoyed about whatever it was you said to him on Monday."

"You think that's all?" Alfred asked urgently.

"What else do you think it would be?"

"I dunno. Maybe he's not avoiding me, but is trying to be with someone else instead."

"Francis?" Matthew asked in surprise. Finally looking at Alfred instead of Gilbert, "I doubt that."

"Yeah, it was dumb. Never mind," Alfred said, forcing himself to laugh out loud. He spent the rest of the meeting watching Arthur anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

"See, I told you that the meeting room was full of sexual tension," Francis said with a smirk.

"I suppose so," Arthur responded. They were walking together through the cold Manhattan streets, back to their hotel. Francis's running commentary on awkward moments occurring throughout the boardroom had been highly amusing, and Arthur wasn't dreading the continuation of "Operation L'amour" so much as he might have.

"Alfred was watching you, you know."

"I'm sure he was just glaring at me or something," Arthur responded, although the news had taken him by surprise. Francis shrugged in response and led the way into their hotel and up towards the conference room from yesterday.

"So what are we doing today?" Arthur said tiredly, placing his briefcase on the ground and settling himself into a chair.

"Today," France began as his PowerPoint appeared on the screen, "we cover 'overcoming inner difficulties'."

"Oh goody," Arthur drolled, folding his arms. The slight alleviation of his dread was all but gone. The screen title now read: Overcoming the Colony Complex.

"Now the first step to conquering your problem is to learn to see Alfred as a grown-up."

"I do," Arthur insisted. Francis raised an eyebrow, and the Englishman adjusted his statement, "sometimes."

"Well you need to learn to do it all the time," Francis said. "Now, we'll be going on a fieldtrip."

"A fieldtrip?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Francis responded, "You're going to eavesdrop on a little conversation. Now, I had Gilbert and Mattieu bring Alfred to the hotel bar, and I'm going to go down and speak with them. You are going to hide behind a plant."

"Is this necessary?" Arthur asked

"Do not doubt my process."

oOoOo

_Gangster Jones felt the pull of his pin striped suit as he leaned against the bar of his favorite speakeasy. His eyes closed as he took a heavy swig of moonshine. One eye opened just slightly, as he observed his fellow gangsters out of the corner of his eye. His twin, who'd once been a straightlaced kind of guy but had since fallen for one Alfred's coworkers, was grinning and talking with Gilbert. Gilbert was a crazy bastard, working with him was always a risk, but he was brilliant when he wanted to be._

_Alfred knew why they'd taken him here. They wanted to cheer him up. Alfred was a fool, and he had let himself fall for a copper. He'd thought it was love, but officer Kirkland had betrayed him. Even now he was off working with his fellow cop, officer Bonnefoy._

_Bonnefoy was corrupt. Alfred had worked with him before; he was notorious for taking bribes from bootleggers and smugglers. He'd had every intention of telling Arthur the truth about his partner's backroom deals, but that was before he'd had his heart broken. He'd caught the two of them necking in Arthur's car. He'd never felt so hurt in his life. _

"Alfred, please cheer up. I don't want to leave you here like this," Matthew said, "I really wish I knew what was eating at you."

"I told you I'm fine," Alfred insisted, "You two can go if you want."

"See, he says we can go. So let's go," Gilbert said taking Matthew's arm and tugging him towards the door. Matthew frowned at him.

"My brother's upset! You wouldn't leave Ludwig if he was sad about something, would you?"

"I don't think I'd be able to tell, really. He has the same expression all the time."  
>Gilbert began to imitate his brother's different expressions, all of which were the same. Matthew began to giggle.<p>

Alfred sighed. Watching his brother flirt wasn't making him feel particularly better, but he felt even worse when he heard a voice ring out behind them

"Ah, the bar is full of friends!" Alfred winced as Francis approached them.

"Actually, Matthew and I were just leaving," Gilbert said quickly, putting his hands on the Canadian's shoulders and directing him towards the door. Alfred heard him saying, "He's not alone now, he'll be fine," as they left.

"Hello, Alfred, how is everyone's favorite world power doing today?" Francis asked, settling himself a little too close into Alfred's personal space. Alfred scooted his stool a few inches over.

"I'm fine. I was actually going to leave though."

"Non, non, non. You stay here with me. I'd like someone to talk with while I drink," Francis ordered a glass of wine for himself, grinning at Alfred all the while.

"Don't you have anyone else to drink with?" Alfred asked before blushing slightly and adding, "Like Arthur."

"Arthur?" Francis asked his smirk became disturbingly wider, "Why do you mention him?"

"No reason," Alfred said with a shrug.

"Of course," Francis murmured, "Well, I could ask you the same thing. Surely a brilliantly handsome young man such as yourself could have his pick of drinking partners."

"I only came here because Mattie made me. I wasn't really looking for someone to drink with," Alfred responded.

"That's no reason you can't find yourself some pretty thing to take home tonight. Surely a little love would make you feel better, non?" There was a strangled sort of noise from the potted plant in the corner of the room, but Alfred didn't notice because he was too busy turning red and sputtering.

"I can't- I don't- you just don't take people home that you don't know! That's not- you shouldn't-"

"You're not serious are you?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow. "You've never had a one night stand?"

"What? No, I- who talks about these things?" Alfred's voice was coming out at least a couple of octaves above it's usual pitch and he knew that he was bright red, but he couldn't help it. He took another sip of his soda in an attempt to hide his face.

"Are you drinking cola?" Francis asked his voice sounding strangled.

"Yeah. Drinking age is 21, my license says I'm 19. They won't serve me anything else."

Francis leaned in very close to Alfred's face, looking furious all the while. "You are not helping," he said. "No wonder people think of you like a child, you act like one."

"Hey, shut up! I'm totally a grown-up!"

"Oh, really?" Francis responded, "You don't drink, you blush like virgin when anyone mentions sex, and there is a gameboy about to fall out of your pocket! Prove you're an adult or I'm leaving right now!"

"I don't want you to stay," Alfred snapped back, "But I am grown up. I've got my own houses, I've fought in war, I can go to fancy restaurants and not complain about them having no hamburgers if I really have to. Besides, if you ask me, really mature people aren't that concerned with sex and drinks anyway. That sounds kind of childish to me."

Alfred was proud of that last sentence. It sounded very mature to his ears, and Francis hadn't responded yet so he figured he must agree.

"You're saying that you're only a prude because you're more mature than the rest of us?"

"Yeah, well that and the puritans. They were always saying how 'sins of the flesh' and drinking 'fermented drinks' would get you sent to hell. Although they said the same thing about dancing, the theater, and celebrating Christmas. Besides, I drank before they upped the drinking age. I even went to a few speak easies when I was under prohibition. It's just I can't order anything at the bar."

"What about the sex? You don't need a license for that," Francis said, frowning.

"Just cuz…" Alfred began, but he petered out, unsure if he really wanted to say what he was thinking. He bit his lip, however, before barreling forward, "Just cuz I don't wanna talk about something with you doesn't mean I don't think about it!"

"To be completely honest, I'm now having trouble imagining that you have any idea how intercourse even works," Francis told him blandly. He sighed heavily and leaned on the bar. Alfred didn't know what he was so upset about. Usually he would have expected Francis to use this all as an excuse to come onto him or something, but it almost seemed as though he were frustrated.

Suddenly, however, Francis's eyes lit up. He was staring very intently at a napkin that was lying between the two of them. Alfred looked at it too, and then back up at Francis, his own face filled with terror. They both made to grab at it, but Francis was faster. In a moment he was inspecting it very closely.

"You do think about these things don't you!" he said laughing, "I think you've been spending too much time with Kiku lately."

"Give it back!" Alfred growled, his face burning.

"Non, non, I can't do that. I need this for proof," Francis said as he smiled and shook his head.

"Give it back!" Alfred shouted, this time grabbing the napkin back and punching Francis across the room. He stuffed it into his pocket and stormed out of the bar.

OoOoO

Arthur could not stop laughing. They were back in their conference room, although Francis was now nursing a very sore cheek.

"It is not funny! He is very strong, and I didn't even get my proof of his adult mindedness."

"Just tell me what he drew on the damn napkin and we'll be fine," Arthur said, trying to stifle his laughter. "Although personally I consider anyone man enough who sends you flying across a room."

"I must admit, I did not expect him to be such a prude. I thought if you heard him speaking about his passed sexual conquests than you would be forced to see him as a grown man."

"Clearly you never met any puritans then. The whole lot was like that. Why did you think we gave them Massachusetts? Anything to get rid of them."

Francis laughed slightly, but winced in pain as he did. "Still, I can tell you with confidence that his mind is not quite as prudish as his words. He had drawn some sort of romantic encounter between two men on that napkin. They look liked policemen or something, I couldn't quite make out who they were supposed to be."

Arthur flushed just thinking about Alfred thinking about those sorts of things. It was strange, but perhaps Francis had actually helped. Knowing that Alfred didn't think like a child, although it might seem like he did on the outside, made Arthur feel a little less guilty for falling for him.

"What's the next step?" he asked.

"Personality differences," Francis told him. "I want you to think about how your differing personalities fit together."

Arthur leaned his hand on his cheek and stared pensively at the PowerPoint up on the screen. He and Alfred were quite different, but he never really doubted that they worked together on some level.

"Well, you know, opposites attract, I guess," Arthur said, smiling to himself, "He needs someone to give him a firm grasp on reality, and I suppose I need someone to make me have a little more fun every once in awhile."

Francis raised an eyebrow, "Seeing me get punched always puts you in a very accepting mood doesn't it?"

"Oh, I forgot! Punching you is an aspect of his personality that I find quite agreeable. Add that to the list."

"I hate you," Francis said blandly. He clicked the PowerPoint forward and it said: I'll just have to accept the fact that I have giant, uncontrollable eyebrows. Francis urged, "Read it."

Arthur made to punch him and Francis quickly covered his face.

"Wait, wait, wait! We haven't finished today's lesson just yet."

"Well, I'm not reading that, so unless you have something of value to add I'm done here."

"The last bit for today is to learn how to be happy. And not because of someone else's misery either."

Arthur grumbled but sat back down. The screen was now urging him to learn that no one was impressed by his brooding and that loneliness was not enjoyable. At the very bottom, however, Francis has written Beatles lyrics.

"For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder," Arthur read quietly.

"Yes," Francis said. "They're your famous band's lyrics, but I don't think you understand them at all."

"I understand them," Arthur snapped, "They mean… well that is, in the context of the song..."

"Yes, in the context of the song they mean that it is ridiculous to hold your feelings inside because you're afraid that something bad will happen, or because you'd rather be distant and cool than risk it all on love."

Arthur considered this silently.

"We'll meet again tomorrow," Francis informed him, "I am going to get more ice for my face."

He left and Arthur remained sitting in the conference room, his mind on Alfred.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur had arrived at the international meeting room early, just as he always did. Normally this was a great way to spend some time with just his thoughts. Occasionally there would be another early riser, Ludwig perhaps or Japan, but they were generally quiet as well and communicated through nothing more than nods.

Arthur had most certainly not been expecting Francis to be sitting on the table, legs crossed, eyes trained on the door, waiting for him.

"Nice makeup," Arthur said, "It almost covers your bruise."

"If you didn't know it were there, you wouldn't be able to see it. But no more insults, we need to talk," Francis gestured to a chair and silently Arthur sat, "Today begins the next phase of our operation 'Understanding the Target'. For the next few days we shall be carefully observing young Alfred."

"What sort of observations am I supposed to be making?" Arthur asked, quirking a large eyebrow.

"The step after this is 'wooing the target'. So we need to learn information that will help you court him. What does he like? Where does he like to go? What does he want in a man?" Francis twirled his hand as he spoke as though to add more excitement to his words.

"He likes being the center of attention, going to fast food restaurants, and superheroes," Arthur said flatly, "There. We're done."

"If you really want to spend the rest of your days eating at McDonalds while he tries to get people to look at him by climbing in a ball pit, so be it. If not, than I suggest that you, Angleterre, listen to me."

Arthur frowned and considered this. Perhaps Alfred did have more complicated interests, and besides he needed to find a way to get Alfred to look at him, for he was certain that he didn't care much about him now.

oOoOo

_Spaceman Jones held his laserblaster close to his face as he peered around the corner of the Martian base. His partner, Krk'lnd, a sexy alien from planet Venus had been hypnotized and kidnapped by the hideous Martians. The Martians had gross tentacle,s which ended with extra eyeballs, sprouting out of their heads._

_They used their creepy hair eyes to try and confuse other people and lead them astray. That's what had happened to Krk'lnd, and Spacemen Jones needed to get him back. Yet as he peered around the corner Jones was met by a horrifying sight. Krk'lnd was wrapped in the arms of an especially disgusting Martian. Krk'lnd was smiling up at the Martian, but his eyes were out of focus._

_Very carefully Spaceman Jones leveled his laserblaster at the Martian's big, hideous, stupid, ugly face and pulled the trigger. BANG_

oOoOo

"He just walked into a stop sign," Francis said.

"I noticed," Arthur responded, "He's seemed kind of spaced out lately, I'm starting to worry about the poor lad."

Francis hit him.

"What the bloody fuck was that for, Frog?" Arthur asked, grabbing his head angrily.

"You called him lad, I was trying to stop you from slipping back into bad behaviors," Francis told him matter-of-factly, but he was grinning cheekily.

"Never mind, hurry up or we're going lose him."

oOoOo

Alfred wandered into an arcade and readied some quarters for an old asteroids machine. He wasn't much into the game, however, and he quickly lost the four dollars he had had in his pocket. He wandered back out again, sighing heavily and deciding to go back to his apartment.

He hadn't seen Arthur in the past few days, except in meetings, and he was really starting to worry about it. Arthur and Francis kept disappearing together as soon as work was over, and no matter how hard he looked he couldn't find them. What if they really were together? What if he'd lost any chance to win Arthur's heart?

oOoOo

"Odd, I would have thought he'd spend hours in there," Arthur murmured as he and Francis snuck out of the Arcade behind Alfred.

"This is disgusting! I can't believe it has my name on it!" Francis had purchased a cup of French fries from the arcade in order to stop them from getting kicked out. He was holding one up between his fingers and it seemed to wilt.

"Don't look at me, I call them chips," Arthur said, "Now hurry up we need to follow him."

"Why hurry?" France asked shrugging, "He is going very slowly."

Arthur frowned as he watched the young nation. Alfred's usual optimism and energy seemed to have been draining out of him as they had watched him over the past few days. He seemed sick, and Arthur was ready to give up on the stakeout and go make sure he was taken care of.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" Arthur asked, not entirely expecting a response.

Francis glanced over at him for a mere moment before saying, "I think he is love sick."

"Love sick!" Arthur shouted before quickly ducking behind a garbage can in case Alfred looked in their direction.

"Yes. Look at him. He is clearly in love. Listless, depressed, distracted, his expression is that of young romantic hero."

Arthur bit his lip and he stopped following Alfred.

"What is wrong Angleterre?" Francis inquired, actually sounding concerned.

"Who do you think he's in love with?" Arthur asked quietly.

"It could be you."

"It could be anybody! Oh god! What if I'm too late.? What if he's fallen for someone else and I never get a chance to say how I feel? Oh fuck! I've taken to long!"

"Angleterre, you must calm down. There is absolutely no reason for you to be panicking. I think it rather likely that you are the one that he has fallen for. Our job may be considerably easier than I had first imagined!" Francis grinned, clapping Arthur on the back.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we might be able to skip straight to the final step: 'Confession'. If he loves you already than there needn't be any more studying or wooing. You are what he wants in a man so there is nothing that you need to change or improve upon. You've already overcome your own problems with this relationship. You simply need to tell him how you feel!" Francis was overjoyed, flushed with triumph and the closeness of his project's completion. Arthur, however, seemed much less sure.

He bit his lip, contemplating what Francis had told him, but then simply shook his head. It seemed too good to be true. There was no way that Alfred would have fallen for him. He was short and stodgy, plain and unimpressive. There was nothing about him that could possibly attract someone as vivacious and shining as Alfred. He sighed deeply and looked back at Francis.

"No. It's someone else I'm sure of it. I should just call it quits now before I cause any problems."

Francis made a pained noise in the back of his throat. "You are so close, Angleterre, you cannot give up now. If you refuse to believe that you are the object of his affection than at least give it one last chance. Give it one final play for his love. I beg of you."

Arthur looked over at Alfred who was now leaning dejectedly against a crosswalk light, waiting for the one on the apposing side of the street to give him the okay to cross. Arthur sighed. What could he do to possibly get his attention, particularly when he seemed to be drifting away every second?

A small child, tears streaming down her face, rushed out of the throng, passed Alfred and headed into the street. Arthur had barely registered a sort of horrified panic, before Alfred had swept forward and plucked her out of harms way, yanking her back to his side of the street. He bent down on his knees and spoke with her, smiling kindly, in a way that seemed to calm her. They talked for another moment or so before Alfred whipped out his cell phone, seeming to ask the girl for a number. Not a minute or so later her parents arrived, terrified and breathless. Although he couldn't hear them, Arthur could tell that they were thanking Alfred profusely as they hugged their little girl. When they left Alfred watched them go, looking slightly cheered if still somewhat depressed.

Arthur watched in silence through the entire scene, he could feel Francis's eyes on him, but he refused to be distracted. He sensed that the child was one of his, an English tourist unused to the bustle of New York City, and he felt a surge of gratefulness towards the other nation. He admired the boy's heroism and sense of justice, and yet at the same time the wheels in his mind were turning. He was forming a plan; a final play for Alfred's affection.

"Francis," He said, turning and grabbing the French nation by the collar of his shirt, "I need to put myself in mortal peril."


	5. Chapter 5

"I am not doing this," Francis announced, his curls bouncing as he shook his head. "This was not part of my plan."

The two nations had arrived together very early to the international meeting room. Unlike their previous meetings in the conference room, however, Arthur was the one marching back and forth while Francis sat pouting in a cold plastic chair.

"This most certainly is a part of your plan. We studied him, which revealed two things. One, he has fallen for someone else and we haven't much time. And two, he can only be broken out of his slump if someone else is in need. It's time to act. It's step number four "wooing the target", and in this case wooing means giving him a chance to play the hero."

"Wooing is an art," Francis argued back. "It involves conversation and good wine, not you trying to get yourself killed in the most spectacular way you can! You don't even have anything planned. Assuming that something dangerous will occur on our little field trip to Wall Street is not a plan. It is fooli-"

"Belt up you great Frog! I hear footsteps!"

OoOoO

Alfred knew he was pouting. His chin was perched on the end of the table and his arms were sprawled out in front of him. He didn't want to do anything, and he felt that Ludwig should stop glaring at him because it was impressive enough that he had shown up in the first place. He was so out of it, in fact, that he didn't even want to draw pictures of Francis dying in horrible ways or Arthur looking up at him as though he were a hero.

When Yao announced that they would all be going up to Wall Street, Alfred let out a sigh so heavy that it actually distracted Matthew from gazing across the room at Gilbert.

"Cheer up Al, a walk will do you good," Matt said helping him out of his seat.

"I walk around here all the time. It's just the same old thing," Alfred told his brother as he dug his hands deep into his pockets. The international assembly exited the room, and made its way down to the street all together. Alfred scanned his eyes across the crowd, trying to find Arthur.

When he saw him he was actually startled, their eyes made contact and they both froze for a moment. Arthur hastily looked away and continued his energetic conversation with Francis. It was at this point that Alfred began to seriously consider sneaking his way out of the group and simply disappearing.

It would be really bad form; he knew that. After all they were in his country, going to his economic epicenter, but he seriously couldn't stand watching Arthur and Francis much longer. As the group made its way down into the closest subway station, looking considerably less strange than they would in any other city in the world, Alfred stayed on the stairs. He dwelled there indecisively, knowing he shouldn't go back, but having no desire to continue either.

OoOoO

Arthur hadn't had a chance to think of anything yet. Francis was being entirely too distracting, spending the entire walk muttering in his ear about how he was being stupid.

The problem, as Arthur saw it, was that as crowded as the New York City streets were, the traffic wasn't very fast. He had considered walking out in front of a bus, but figured this simply wasn't dangerous enough. He'd probably just bruise his face or something and then he'd just be even less appealing.

The group bought tickets, made their way through the turnstiles and approached the subway track. Arthur's eyes widened.

"No," Francis hissed. "I know what you are thinking and don't you dare."

"I won't die," Arthur responded, his eyes glued to the tracks with great intensity.

"No, you'll just be smashed to a bloody pulp, broken and bruised and only alive because of what you are. You won't be able to move for weeks or months or longer, and you'll miss your chance to just tell him how you feel."

"That won't be a problem, because I'm sure he'll rescue me. Now, hurry up and push me."

"No. I refuse to have anything to do with this."

"Hurry up and do it Frog. Another one will come by soon, we haven't much time."

"You're going to regret this."

Arthur spun on his heel, facing the Frenchman furiously. Yet as he did so he found that his footing failed. He began to fall back down onto the tracks, as he did so he realized with terror that Alfred was still behind the turnstiles far from him. When he landed he panicked even further. He felt his ankle snap and he could feel the ground shaking beneath him.

"Merde! Arthur, get back up here!" Francis shouted.

"I can't," Arthur croaked, "I can't stand up."

At this point they had attracted attention. The other nations were all staring down at him, as were a number of regular civilians. They all looked frightened and indecisive, as though unsure if going down to get him would help, or simply get two people killed.

Arthur could not believe how stupid he was. What had made him think this was a good idea? It was stupid, it was reckless, and he was going to get unbelievably hurt. The rumbling of the subway track grew stronger and he could now hear its horn.

That was when he saw Alfred push through the crowd and arrive on the edge of platform. Alfred looked down at him and their eyes met. The boy looked even more terrified than he felt. But fear had never frozen Alfred, it had always forced him into action, and it did so now. He leapt down onto the track, swept Arthur into his arms, placed him safely back onto the platform, and pulled himself out of harms way just in time for the Subway train to go rumbling by behind him.

Panting he laid down besides Arthur, supporting himself with his elbows so that his head remained elevated.

"You alright, Old Man?" He asked glancing down at Arthur. The older nation said nothing, he struggled into a sitting position before leaning down and kissing Alfred gently on the lips.

"I am the luckiest idiot in the world," he said smiling. At that moment, however, he felt acutely aware of the pain in his ankle. He saw spots and then everything went dark.

OoOoO

Arthur awoke blearily and found himself laid out in a bed. It was not his room at the hotel, in fact he wasn't sure if he'd ever seen this room before. Slowly he became aware of the movie posters adorning the walls. Old spy movies, sci-fi flicks and westerns everywhere. There was only one person that he could think of who would own this room.

"He's in the living room. He fell asleep on the couch after trying to punch me again," Francis was sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, looking as though he'd rather not touch anything.

"What?" Arthur said stupidly; he still wasn't feeling his finest.

"He thought we were an item, did you know that? He thought that we were dating and he was mad at me for not trying to save you. I told him that he was being stupid, and that I found the idea of touching you revolting. It seemed to cheer him up."

"Oh," Arthur said. His mind was racing.

"You are both incredibly stupid and deserve one another. I'm leaving. I'll wake him up on the way out." Francis stood up and began to pick his way across the room, avoiding clothes that were strewn across the floor.

"Francis," Arthur called out, and the Frenchman stopped and turned. "Thank you," Arthur said softly, avoiding his eyes.

"It is nothing. It's what I do," Francis said, and he left.

OoOoO

Alfred entered the room a few minutes later, and Arthur couldn't help but smile when he saw him.

"Hey," said Alfred, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Al, and thank you. You really helped back there."

"Saved your butt is more like it. Francis said you jumped down on purpose," Alfred said nervously. He sat down on the bed beside Arthur, but didn't look him in the eye.

"No! Well… I was thinking about it, but I really did fall," Arthur told him. There was silence as they both became very interested in the bedspread.

"You should've just told me that you liked me instead of sneaking around and getting yourself hurt!" Alfred said suddenly, looking at Arthur rather fiercly.

"You should've just told me that you were jealous instead of moping about and getting yourself in a fit!" Arthur snapped back. Their eyes met and suddenly they looked away again, uncomfortable.

"So…" Alfred began again after a minute or so had passed, "Does this mean you like me?"

"I suppose, if this means that you like me."

Alfred suddenly broke into a grin, "Oh Arthur I love you more than anything!", and he pulled the smaller nation into a crushing hug and kissed him rather passionately.

When he let go, Arthur smiled at him stupidly, leaned forward and kissed him again. Francis would have been proud.

OoOoO

_Prince Arthur had been in grave danger, but he was free now. Free to walk in the sun, and run through the grass, and laugh as he pleased. _

_Alfred the brave Knight had saved him, with a little help from the wizard who maybe wasn't so bad as he had seemed at first. Sir Alfred watched Arthur as he laughed, his face lit up in a way that he'd never seen before. Then Sir Alfred pulled the prince onto his horse, kissed him passionately and together they rode off into the sunset to fight aliens, gangsters and whatever else came their way._


End file.
